MafiaXIII
by deityb
Summary: Reverse and rewrite. The story of the city of Sukuea, and those two 'families' within... The Shin-Ra, and the Thirteenth Order. Ancient grudge, or deeper.. Who will come out of this street war alive? ::T for Language and Violence:
1. I

"Your name.." He asked, fingers clenched about a fountain pen, tip tapping onto paper impatiently.

"Lumaria Rosenguarde…" The young man replied, a smile playing across handsome features.

"Spell it, please.." The older man sighed, tapping becoming more impatient.

"Ah.. L-U-M-A-R-I-A R-O-S--" He started, before being cut off.

"The first name will do. You won't need the other again.." The man sighed, jotting down the name and beginning his tapping once more. A pause, as he scribbled down the letters a few more times, finally stopping on one combination, "M-A-R-L-U-X-I-A… Pronounce that."

"Marluxia…" He muttered, the word sending a thrilled chill down his spine… He liked it.. Oh, did he like it.

"Good, good." The Superior murmured, scratching down the roman numerals for 'eleven' beside the word, "Marluxia…. Number XI…" A grin, on both faces, "The Graceful Assassin…"

"I like it, sir.."

"Welcome to the family.

:

:another side/another story

:

Slight smoke rose from the smoldering tip of the cig, hanging off of pale lips. So very slowly, a hand rose up to remove the cigarette, flicking it to the ground, where a highly-polished shoe ground out the very last living embers, the same colour as the dying sky. The other hand, that bearing a few gold rings on callused, burned fingers, held a business jacket, slung over his shoulder. Crimson hair, fading to scarlet at the tips of long, pushed-back spikes, shook lazily in the sea's breeze.

Emerald eyes turned to look at cerulean ones. Cerulean eyes, so terrified-looking.

"Is he dead yet?" The cerulean-eyed blonde asked, adjusting the buttons on his coat nervously. The red-head shrugged, passing a grin to the blonde.

"Probably. 'S been ten minutes, and concrete ain't easy t' escape from." His tone, opposed to the blonde's, was laid-back, as if this were routine. Well, it did make sense. He had been here longer, if only by a few months, and he WAS in charge of the… 'Executions'…

The blonde shrugged, running a hand through that oddly-styled hair. Not only was this DANGEROUS.. But his pants were damp from the disposal of the prey. Not that he minded water, in fact; he loved it. But what he had DONE while in that water… Just got to him, honestly. He didn't like it..

"Axel.. Do I have to do that… A lot?" He asked, shivering a bit.A silence followed, as 'Axel' slipped his coat on once more…

"Yeah, Demyx.. You might." He whispered, turning to enter the black, unmarked car behind them. 'Demyx' bit his lip for a moment, before turning to enter the car. For only a second had the doors been open before another car entered the graveled lot beside this particular harbor.

Demyx glanced around at it, expecting the Sukuea police, who were easy enough to deal with… But, this couldn't be them… The Sukuea Discipline Force officers were known to drive the silver Crown Victoria.. But this was a white.. Rolls Royce?

"Axel--!" Demyx hissed, jerking his head in the direction of the car. Axel paused, standing up full again to look across the lot. Almost immediately, his face paled to a deathly white; even his hair seemed to droop as one of the doors of the Royce opened, and a man in a dark navy suit stepped out, toting a large suitcase."Get in the car." Axel whispered, but a second too late. That very moment, the suited man drew a hand gun from his coat, and began to fire. Demyx let out a sharp squeak, and clutched his left ear in his hand, before jumping into the car. The blood between his fingers indicated his ear had been skimmed in some way.

As fast as he could manage, Axel started the car, not even flinching as the rear window was blown out. Screaming obscenities as bullet after bullet hit the car, he finally managed to get out of the lot, making fast pace to the interstate a few blocks away.

The suited man, his black hair flying awry as he ran, attempted to follow for about a hundred feet or so, before an order was barked across the lot.

"Tseng! Stop. They're gone."

'Tseng' paused, a bit breathless from adrenaline, and turned to face the car… A sigh, as he tucked the gun back into the shoulder holster hidden under the coat.

"Yes, President." He hissed, tracking back to the car and getting in. His hands were shaking heavily… Very heavily. Blue eyes from the back seat grazed over the hands, noting they had been clipped by the slide. Not in usual, for a trained marksman. And not only were his hands shaking.. The poor man seemed to be in a full-body tremor…

"Tseng.." The blue-eyed man murmured, a drop of worry against the words, a dash of knowing in the silence between them…

"We're too late." Tseng hissed, shutting his eyes slowly, tone in a forced calm, "They killed him." After calming just enough, he turned the car to ignition, backing out and making way towards the skyscrapers in the distance. The dancing city lights were already beginning to turn on in the darkening sky.

"Hn…" He knew the thought of that man, of all people, dying should have been far more worrisome, but.. Tseng's attitude was rather alarming… Hearing his right-hand-man in such a devastated silence was, honestly, frightening. He brought up a bandaged hand, placing it between the seats and onto Tseng's shoulder… A note did run across his mind, though.. It was that much harder to move, already. He'd have to see Hojo about that, "Tseng… He was a good man, and I'm sure he fought.."

"I know, sir.." He whispered in reply, swallowing hard in what, the President assumed, was an attempt to regain slipping composure, "I just hate for him to have gone out like that… I'm sorry I lost my temper, I--.."

The President cut him off with a squeeze to the shoulder, "You looked up to him.. And he was proud of how far you've come."

A slight smile… And a nod. Even the president had a heart, it would seem, "Thank you, President Shin-Ra."

The President released his grip on the shoulder slowly, leaning back in his seat, ignoring a pain in his lower back, and adjusting the white sheet that hid him, "Verdot always was so proud."

Knuckles tensed at the name, and composure nearly slipped, "I know, sir… And they'll pay."

"Don't they always…?" Rufus mused… He couldn't put his finger on it, and he would regret it later, but… Something foreboding had been in the air on those words. But that is the story for another day.


	2. II

**A/N: Hello! Wow, another chapter so soon, no? Amusing, to say the least. I just wanted to drop in the obligatory note: I do not own KH, nor any of the characters (so far)… So, please do NOT sue me… I'm only 16, guys. Give me a break. Also: Constructive criticism only, please. Wow, I'm lame. Anyway, here you go!**

A soft puttering, down to a slow, hesitant stop. He swore, glancing at the gauges, checking for anything wrong.

"I think the tire blew out…" Demyx muttered, casting a sidelong glance at the Flurry of the Dancing Flames. Grass eyes squinted, lips pursing in a rather comical, but, no-doubt unimpressed, expression.

"I knew that, dumbass." Axel murmured, pulling the keys out of the ignition and swinging the door open. Hesitant, Demyx followed suit, unbuckling and opening his door to step out. Honestly, he felt safer in the car; it held less chance of a fight than the outside world did. Merely stepping outside of this car, merely breathing this outside air… It was a game of Russian Roulette.

Demyx glanced up, blinking in slight shock to see Axel wandering half-way down the street. Why didn't they just call a tow truck? But, Axel WAS Axel, after all. So, with a bit of a whine, Demyx plodded after, catching up to VIII, just slightly out of breath. An incredulous look asked all he needed, and Axel quickly explained.

"Leave it… Don't talk about the car, and let's get some food…"

"What? Issit stolen?" Demyx asked, truly curious.

"Just shut up and keep walking." VIII murmured, quickening pace as they passed the local flower shoppe. Shin-Ra members were known to pop in there every now and then, and Axel wanted no chances. Better to not look suspicious, though.

Slowing down a bit, he turned to face Demyx, brushing stray bits of glass off his collar, "What do you feel like?" He asked, a convincing grin sprawled across his face.

Surprised by Axel's quick backlash from the previous events, Demyx stumbled, almost tripping. Blushing profusely at his clumsiness, he paused after a moment, putting a finger to his lips and thinking.

"How does Chinese sound, sir?" He suggested after a moment or two of deep thought. After the usual routine of 'don't call me sir,' Axel agreed, and led Demyx off, en route to 'Radiant Garden Buffet'.

:

:iwannalinethepiecesup

:

As a group, they had always enjoyed watching the lights at night. It was daily routine… No-one would ever question four under-age kids wandering about after sunset. No adults cared anymore, really. This city was too far gone, and these four knew that, known that once their parents had separately gone at their own times. One way or another, each and every one of these 'children' were rather alone, sans each other…

That was all that mattered, in the minds of each of them. As they walked towards a favorite hanging spot, none of them would have guessed to the ever-closening end of these halcyon days.

"Oi! Incoming!" The girl laughed, as the blonde boy kicked a bottle rather hard at their leader ahead. Laughs and chatter, as the brown-haired boy intercepted it, sending the empty gin container crashing against a dumpster.

The leader glanced around to the blonde, rolling blue eyes with a smirk to the other's brown.

"A challenge!" The blonde chided, bounding to stand at the leader's side, clapping a hand onto his shoulder, "Was that a threat, Roxas?" He goaded, shaking the shoulder a bit as 'Roxas' sighed, pausing and chuckling.

"Maybe, Hayner… But now?" Roxas sighed, placing a hand on his hip, a habit of his, "I mean, I know you're dying to overthrow me!" He brought up his other hand, wagging a finger in a scolding motion.

"How did you know?" Hayner laughed, popping his knuckles mockingly.

Before Roxas could respond, the girl, Olette, cut in, wagging her own finger, "Hey, guys! Are you forgetting? It's discount night, and, if we want food…" Oh-so-coy, she smirked, raising a brow at the two blondes.

Codes only these four could understand. Laughs only they would get. One may say this was the time of their life… One might claim nothing would go wrong at that second, as they made a fateful trip towards their favorite place.

"Hey! Guys!" The other boy, Pence, laughed, trotting up to the rest, "Where should we go tomorrow?" The constant question; someone had to ask it every night… And the same answer fell from Roxas' lips.

"Wherever we can…"

"What about the beach?" Olette suggested, waving an arm to depict a shoreline.

"So expensive!" Hayner sighed, crossing his arms, "It's like.. What? 5,000 just for a melon there! And the tickets don't go cheap, either. No matter how fun it is, I dunno if it's worth it." He added, a groan of displeasure audible in there.

"Well, the beach sounds like a good idea to me.." Roxas laughed, "I'm sure we could raise up the extra money…" A wink to his friends, and they continued forward, much discussion on odd jobs to take up for the beach trip arising. Many laughs, as par. And again, and again.

After a few more peaceful minutes, the quartet found their way to an oh-so-familiar restaurant, assembling just in the door (first booth they could find). At 9 in the evening, they were, expectedly, alone as customers in the place. After placing a group order to the blonde, rather stoned waiter, the conversation moved as any would, from daily things to dreams and back again.

With the tinkling of a small bell, two smartly-dressed men entered the room, one looking exceedingly nervous. Immediately, the conversation died out, all four of the kids staring at the two young men, only a few years older then them, made their way to the booth just behind them. All exchanged worried glances; they knew very well the kind of adults who actually went outside at night…

They knew, all-too-well, that this was a Gang town. At least three large gangs lived within Sukuea, and its sister city, Enikkusu. All three were bloodthirsty, dangerous… Ready to kill anyone.. And, of course.. There were the rumors of 'families' amidst the chaos. 'Families' were much, much larger and more powerful than gangs… If fact, most gangs were allied under assumed family names.. Though no-one knew if those overlords of the underworld really existed. Silly rumors, and all…

The blonde waiter, toting the nametag 'Cloud' wandered his way over to the table sporting the two newcomers. Mumbling came from the table, but no threats were made, no guns were pulled. The redhead actually seemed to be pleasant, and the blonde was quite silent… Cloud passed back towards the counter, whapping the sleeping black-haired girl behind the counter awake as he did.

Another glance passed between the four kids, before conversation slowly began to wind up once more. None noticed the annoyed glances as they vocalized louder and louder, as all kids will do… Not until the redhead turned, clearing his throat just behind Pence's left ear, did anyone remember the two strange men.

Pence started, glancing around to the redhead, noting the strange makeup he wore subconsciously. The man's face was set into a deep frown, his companion's timid, staring at his empty plate.

A chill running down his back, Pence spoke, "C-can I help you, mister?" He asked, a quiver in his voice. The next second, Pence was on the ground, clutching a broken nose and howling in pain. The redhead, whom we bystanders know as Axel, stood triumphant over the wounded boy, shaking blood off his knuckles.

Shouts and yells, accompanied by the sounds of the other three jumping up, raising fists, cracking knuckles, echoed across the mostly-empty building, snapping the night manager awake, far in the back of the place.

"What was that for!?" Olette crowed, hidden a bit behind an insistent Hayner.

"What did he do to you!?" Roxas called, atop the table.

"Who do you think you are, man!?" Hayner screamed, holing an arm out to protect Olette.

A silence followed, Demyx slowly rising from his seat, taking up stance behind Axel. Axel counted heads, reaching into his coat ever-so-slowly. Eyes flicked to the exit, and an automatic pistol, painted and stylized in an intricate red-and-silver pattern, was drawn, pointing between the eyes of Hayner, who froze. Terrified.

"Name's Axel… A-X-E-L. Commit it to memory," His voice drawled out, casual with such a situation, "Number VIII… Flurry of the dancing flames."

_Continued in Chapter III…_


	3. III

Silence fell, all eyes on the gun in Axel's hand, all eyes locked on the glimmering little taste of death.

"N-number VIII?" Hayner finally spoke, raising his hands over his head in some form of surrender, "Of….?"

Now the kid was trying to waste time, Axel knew that… But why not? It was fun to screw with the little bastards, "Organization XIII" He replied, smirking.

A shiver seemed to run through the room. Yes, that had been the rumored name… The underground part of Thirteenth Order Industries… confirmation of this fact… Well, it made danger all-the-more real, didn't it? Roxas' eyes met Hayner's, the same expression mirrored, the same thought silent between them.

Axel sighed, lowering the gun, returning it to the shoulder holster, "Now, we ain't gonna hit you kids up for lunch money or nothing, but… We'll leave you with a warning, okay?" Before another word could be breathed, Roxas had thrown himself forward, elbowing the Flurry hard in the stomach. So hard, in fact, that it sent the redhead to his knees, gasping.

Demyx screamed, jumping back behind a potted plant and drawing his own stylized pistol. Shaking a bit, he aimed and fired, clipping Olette in the shoulder.

A scream, and she fell, clutching her shoulder, red leaking from between her fingers, tears sliding down her face. It seemed silence only existed, without breath or blink, until a roar of horror and rage grew. Chairs, hoisted by Hayner and Roxas, began to fly towards the potted-plant-hideaway. As the screams echoed, and as Olette crumpled to her knees, biting her lip to hold back howls of pain, Axel stood again, grabbing up a salt shaker from the table, crashing it down on Roxas' head.

More startled yells, and Pence stumbled up, grabbing onto Olette and pulling her back, behind the main counter. People were screaming back there, too, it seemed… Were more of these Organization people here?

Roxas regained balance, gripping onto his bleeding scalp. Blearily, he spun to face Hayner, barking out, "Get help! Find the Committee! Something!"

Looking back, wanting to disagree, Hayner nodded and darted out of the place, Demyx standing and making to fire after. Luckily enough, he was halted by a chair to the back of the head. His shot went awry, hitting through the window and rocketing into a streetlamp across the road.

Roxas smirked, raising the chair again. It's what they deserved. What they all deserved. Arms tensing to bring it down, eyes widening, a thrill running through him…

And he stopped, feeling cool metal pressing against the back of his neck. Oh-so-slowly, he set the chair down, arms falling tense at his sides.

"Good kid." Axel purred, pulling the gun away, "Now, didn't your parents ever teach you not to mess with fire…?" He laughed, taking a step back to examine the boy, "You know, you fight like an animal."

Roxas let out a gruff 'hn' in response, glancing the tiniest bit over his shoulder to look Axel up-and-down.

"And those eyes! Woah, man! What a shade… But they look so empty, don't they?" Axel teased, waving his gun about as he talked, "Does that say something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Roxas hissed, spinning to face Axel.

"You don't? Well.. Let me ask ya somethin', kid. What's your name?" At the expression Roxas gave him, Axel chuckled, "I told ya mine, it'd be nice to tell me yours!"

A hiss past his nose, and Roxas replied, "Roxas, okay? Just get out of here. I'm tired of this!" He made to step forward, but was halted as Axel aimed the gun once more, this time at Roxas' collar.

"Good, good… Now, tell me what you feel right now."

Roxas hesitated, wrinkling his brow, "What do you mean?"

A cruel smirk wound around Axel's thin, pale lips, "Does your heart tell you anything right now, Roxas?"

Roxas pondered those words, blankly hearing Demyx attempt to struggle up with the concussion he must have by this point.. Feel..? Heart…? What was this guy getting at?

"What's it to you!?" Roxas shouted, throwing himself at Axel, hands clenching around his neck as he knocked the thin man back against the table he had been sitting at not but five minutes before. The gun tumbled to the floor after firing at the ceiling, and an odd smell had begun to fill the air. But Roxas didn't care; he just wanted this guy DEAD. Why would he ask stuff like that? It wasn't any of his business.. What did he think he knew?

Slender, warm hands; Axel's hands, wound around Roxas' throat, retaliating. The two stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, before Axel spoke, hoarse from the choke upon him.

"You could join us." He breathed, eyes glimmering, "We'd take care of your friends, pay your bills.. Just gotta do what we ask, Roxas…"

Those blue eyes widened, thoughts streaming across them… "Wh--.. Why would I ever!?" Roxas gasped, struggling from the grip.

"Because you already…" Axel tightened his grip, causing Roxas to splutter and gasp louder, "ARE one of us…. _Nobody…" _He released Roxas as Roxas' own grip loosened, throwing the boy across the room and jumping for his gun.

Mid-jump, a sound echoed through the building. The clicking, loading of a gun of sorts. Roxas and Axel looked around, Demyx popping up from his hiding spot to glance as well. Just a few feet away, the tip of a gun blade wavered; the nightshift manager, still donning apron and hair net, clutching it tight, meaning business.

Axel and Demyx exchanged wary glances as the man, 'Leon', murmured out his warning, "Get up and against the wall. The police are on their way, and I won't want to shed any blood--" Half-way through, Axel and Demyx had sprung up, darting to the shattered window. Upon exiting, Axel spun around to face Leon.

A smirk, and he snapped his fingers. Immediately, the strange smell was explained as the beams holding the bullet burst aflame.

Letting out a barely audible hiss, Leon darted after Axel, charging at him and Demyx as the duo broke through the windows of some car in the lot. Too quick to be caught, the Flurry and the Nocturne fled.

Huffing only slightly from the chase and adrenaline, Leon turned to face the now-in-flames building, the crowd of employees and wounded teenagers assembled on the sidewalk. He sighed, brushing stray hair from his forehead.

"Is someone getting the police?"

Roxas nodded, arms shaking, eyes wide. Leon nodded back, eyes scanning over the furious Yuffie, the confused Cloud.. The half-conscious Olette, the bleeding Pence.. And the building in flame…

"Almasy'll have a field day with this one." he grumbled, turning to greet the approaching fleet cars.


	4. IV

**A/N: God forbid, and damn me to hell. I'm bringing in my OC. Don't like OC types? Please deal with it I happen to like her, so.. All that, and more. Furthermore.. Yes, she is named after me, but PLEASE. Seriously. Have nothing nice to say, keep it to yourself. She's in here for plot food, and request of friends. All that. Have fun**

It had been two weeks now.

The flurry sighed, leaning back against the far end of the elevator. God damn, this had to be the SLOWEST elevator in history. A floor a minute, it seemed.. And, with well over fifty floors… No wonder some members refused to use this thing… Honestly, he was never around the tower long enough to learn these things.

But, what did he care? It was nicer out on the other streets of Sukuea! The Tetsuya district was notoriously lame, as compared to the rest of the city… But no, they had to live in the boring place. Jeez, his luck. Why did he ever get into this, anyways…? Well, aside from that PHYISICAL bit.. Why had he been STUPID enough to join this nuthouse?

Oh. Almost there… Going a mile a year, the counter slowly clicked up to the designated floor.. Doors slid open, and that long, open.. Ominous hallway… White pillars, and white furniture.. And whitewalls, and white floor..

The walls, to the right and left.. Completely glass. Completely windows.. And, lo.. The second tallest building in the city overlooked her prowling grounds…

God, this room was creepy. Almost.. Like some warped train station, lush and modern.. And that.. It was unnerving. He'd leave it there. Steps clapping echoes around the empty waiting room, quickening… Always that SICKENING feeling someone was behind him…

Hands gripped unto the knob of that large, white door.. No. No. He had to knock. He almost ALWAYS forgot to knock, and ALWAYS got punished for it. A sigh from the Flurry's lips, and he rapped the door eight times.

Maybe he was imagining, but there seemed to be a yelp, and some sort of scrambling behind that door. Hissed orders, and an extended silence. Just as he raised knuckles to rap on the white wood once more, the doors swung open.. Of their own accord, atop that.. Oh, Xemnas.. You and your flare..

"Axel." The low, pondering voice… Always so _distant_… Always so _lost_… But, thoughts aside, Axel bowed deep as his name was spoken.

"Superior.."

"Stand and take your seat, VIII." Xemnas murmured, leaning back in his own chair. Axel nodded, doing as told.. This room had the same colour scheme.. White, but with silver in some places.. While the waiting room had touches of blue, this room had touches of red. Just paintings. Décor. Like blood on a white sheet.

"You called, sir?" Axel murmured after a long pause… Amazing orator or not.. It was always so ANNOYING to speak to Xemnas. He would pause and pause and drag it allll out. But, Nothingness knew…

"I did.." The Superior replied shortly, picking a checkbook off his desk… A rather ODD zebra print checkbook, might it be added. The Superior opened it, movements deliberate. He always gave off such a.. Purposeful air. Superior made a bit of a face, squinting and pulling reading glasses from his pocket, "Two Million, Axel. You cost us Two Million week before last." Eyes narrowed behind those glasses, "Two million is three times what you're _worth_."

VIII gulped.. That dump had been worth Two Mil…? No way.. "Is it coming out of my paycheck..?" He asked, a bit more bold than could ever be healthy for the stick of a man.

"It will be. You owe three million in unpaid overtime.." Xemnas murmured, removing the glasses and setting them atop the checkbook, "We had to settle out of court, due to your loud mouth.."

"My loud..?" Axel blinked, but was sharply cut off by the sound of footsteps.. From that door in the back, that which led to Xemnas' living quarters. And, quite slowly, a brisk-stepped, clean-cut, menacing blue-haired man appeared in the room, making haste to stand behind Xemnas, arms folding behind his back.

"Your loud mouth, Axel.." Saix smirked, amber eyes set on the Flurry. Xemnas chanced a glance up to the Luna Diviner, raising his brow curiously.

"Awake, are we?"

Saix frowned a bit, seeming to ignore the Superior's words, plowing on, "Because of your inability to keep quiet, word of the Organization almost slipped out to the public."

Oh, dear. Axel's eyes widened a bit… Well, he never expected the kid would TALK.. Thought he'd be threatened. Though he WAS… Hn.

Kids…

"'M sorry…" Axel mumbled, mind far distant.. Set on the kid… Damn kid..

"I have… Half a mind to punish you further, VIII.." Xemnas murmured, drumming dark fingers across the top of the desk. Saix smirked, eyes running Axel up and down… A wolf.. Hungry, yes.

A twinge of foreboding in the Flurry's mind… Xemnas wouldn't… Dear, sweet Oblivion…

"But I'll let you deal with the others." Xemnas finished, the finger taps stopping. Eyes of burning coals fixing to Axel for a moment, lips murmuring, barely audible, "Do it again, and you'll find yourself begging for death…"

Axel nodded, tensing as to stand from his chair, waiting for the order to stand. Xemnas nodded to axel, bidding him a nice day, and Axel stood, bowing and heading to the door.

Only a second of peace, before fingers grasped tightly into his hair.. So tight he feared it'd be ripped out. A chuckle, and Axel's face was slammed into the door frame. Nose instantly breaking, a tooth chipping. Such velocity.. Such power.

He cried out, falling to his knees as that grip loosened, and Saix returned to his Superior's side, wiping his hands off on a napkin supplied by the superior.

"A nice day, VIII.." Xemnas repeated, a chuckle in his voice. Axel coughed out that broken bit of tooth, standing shakily.. Saluting, and out the door.

The two were talking now, he could hear it as he shut the door, collapsing shakily against the wall.. Damn it. Damn both of them. The master of the house and his lapdog. But.. Whatever. Whatever.

He choked a bit on his blood, spitting a mouthful of blood and bile against the wall. His own revenge.

And stumbling to the elevator he went….

:

:i've been having these weird thoughts lately

:

Had he ever mentioned how much he hated the smell of cigars? Well, he would now. Dear GOD he hated the smell. But X was ALWAYS lighting a new one. How absolutely ABSURD, too. At this rate, not only would X be dead by midnight, but the rest of the Organization would die of second-hand by the end of the week.

Well, they really wouldn't, but the statement was still there. He hated smoking. Especially X's smoking… Those cigars wafted all the way down to HIS floor…

The Cloaked Schemer sighed, looking across the break room. Vexen was busy, and Lexaeus was out on some strange mission given by superior. He daren't bother thinking what Superior could bethinking this time, either… Far too dangerous to try to get into his mind.. You might just fall over with an aneurism before anything…

He stood, straightening his coat as he did.. Brightest blue eye trailing around the room.. What to do…? His paperwork.. And Xigbar's… Had been completed some hours ago…

Che. They were running low on food, anyway. He'd run across the street. Hm. Seemed like a good idea, and all.

He straightened, shuffling up stairs and bypassing every elevator possible.. Those things were so slow, and all. He simply would not wait then extra minutes just to get to the mart across the way. No way in any hell. Time was passing slow, already.

He shuffled to the main hall, en route to the door, completely--

"Ah! Zexion, sir! There was a call for you!"

Zexion blinked around, having been a bit too caught up in thought to notice the girl at the front desk. Ruby eyes blinked slowly to his blue.

"Ah..? Was there…?"

The girl nodded, "It was a girl.. She only said one word…" She responded, a curl of black hair falling into her eye.

"… Right. I'll have to call her back." Zexion sighed.. Siblings.. Especially ones who only spoke when they had rude things to say.. Were troublesome.. He blinked at the uniformed girl, and sighed once more, "I'm heading across the way for groceries.. Feel like coming?"

The girl laughed nervously, taking a glance to the desk she worked at. Receptionist, one of the twenty-or-so odd-jobs employed in the Order Building.. One of five to know about the Organization. One of three to take help in those underground dealings.

"Sure!"

Zexion smiled a bit, and nodded, "Follow me."


	5. V

Loud bangs, clanking noises, as the iron bars slid open. Violet eyes opened blearily, pupils wide and unfocused. Ow. Light.

"Jacinta Creston?" A rather tired, yet firm voice called. Violet blinked up, trying to focus on the voice.. All the way back in the holding cell.. Damn, that had been some strong stuff… And this was going to be a baaaad day…

"Jason!" He barked, voice grated. Sandpaper… Such a long night. A grunt, and he stood, swaying to the side.. Almost falling.

"Get up here." The voice called again.

Damn it, he was so out of it… Hm. Bad medicine, all right. A 'yawn', hand covering mouth. Pill in throat. That would fix things… A livelier step, and 'Jason' marched between the rows of talking and groaning prisoners, sliding up to the door.

The blonde, uniformed man glanced to the druggie's face, blue eyes lazily meeting his, "This is the third time this week, Creston. I'm sure your parents would be proud."

A hiss from nostrils, but he held up a hand, anyways, "How much I gotta pay?" He murmured, a frown set.

"Nothing. Guy at the front already paid you off…" He tore off a sheet from the clipboard, holding it out to Jason, "I still suggest you keep on your toes."

"Right-o, Captain Almasy." Jason grunted, shoving the paper into the pocket of his hoodie. A brisk step, trying to get out as fast as he could..

"Your blood-alcohol was three times the legal limit, Creston.." Captain Almasy murmured, slamming the bars shut again, to many complaints of the inhabitants. But a deaf ear, as Seifer Almasy took a step towards this Jason fellow, "You're riding on the highway to hell…"

"I know." The black-haired Jason sighed, grabbing a beanie off of the coat rack. Pulling it over oddly-shaped ears, he shrugged, "It's my job."

"You're a dead man.." Seifer called after the repeat offender, turning to face a tall, dark man with the oddest speech impediment known to man.

Jason sighed, trudging his lonesome way to the main waiting room, baggy jeans and torn sneakers so dirty and off put to the polished floors here… Huh. So the back was allowed to be gritty, but not the main room? Sounded like the Disciplinary Committee of Sukuea, all right.

Jacinta Mercury Creston.. Oldest son of the esteemed Creston family.. Exiled by such… What a winner, right? Damn, he hated that name. Jacinta was a GIRL'S name.. And he wasn't a GIRL. His SISTER was, but… Huh.

Purple eyes glanced to the pinstripe-suited man in the corner. Short, white-blonde hair, goatee, earrings… The man clutched a matching derby to his chest, fingers drumming against the brim.

"Who the hell sent you?" Jason hissed at the cigar-smelling Brit.

"Xigbar bribed me. He didn't want to see you, and I can see why." X replied, clipped accent embroidered in annoyance. A pause between the both, and Luxord motioned to the doors to the staircase (The main holding division was on the second floor).

Jason sent him a questioning blink, pointing to the elevator not but five feet away, "Tryin' to lose weight, blondie?" He spat, incredulous.

"Hm..?" Luxord, already in the doorway for the stairs, glanced back, "Ah. I've never liked elevators.. And it's good for you, pothead."

"Yeah. Nice talk in the middle of the station." Jason murmured, following, nonetheless. GOD his employers were so WEIRD.

Down the steps, to a _completely_ inconspicuous DeLorean parked in a fire lane. Complete with _completely _heterosexual Union Jack decals.

Jason sighed. This was going to be a LONG ride. A really, REALLY long ride. Doors UP, passengers IN, and off they went.

Jason groaned, pressing his forehead against the window.. Woah, the street was BLUE.. Duu--..

Was that a…?

"The hell is that?" Jason mumbled, pointing a slowly-becoming-stoned finger at a little figurine on the dash.

Luxord took a right, taking a glance at the bobbling little thing, "A dalek."

"A dalek?"

"Yes. A dalek. It's my dalek."

"You have a Doctor Who bobblehead thing?"

"I do."

An extended silence, and a red light, "You're on something, King George."

"And you're one to talk? Popping pills, my dear ruffian?" Luxord shot, waiting for the light to change.

"You're gay." Jason murmured, just as the light turned.

Foot on the gas, expression bewildered, Luxord slung around to face Jason, "What!?"

"You totally are."

"That's none of your BUSINESS, either way. Stick your nose back into your own honeycomb, or I swear to God I'll stop the car." The Gambler warned, spinning another corner and speeding considerably.

After a moment of debating, Jason snorted out, "Trying to reach 88, Doc?"

The Gambler of Fate rolled his eyes, "I should have taken the warnings Xaldin gave me when I chose to purchase this car…"

"Use lube?"

"JASON!" Hissed the Brit, "Shut the HELL up. Do you know where we are, for god's sake!?"

Jason blinked, glancing out the window… A shade paler, looking at the shops and signs about. Graffiti for that name, "Why did you take this way, dumbass!?"

Luxord's eyes narrowed, looking for other cars.. Safe for now, it seemed, "32nd Street is blocked off. Someone set off a pipe bomb, and there's rush hour traffic everywhere else. Looks like no-one's around, anyway."

"You'd better be right.. For your sake." Jason grumbled, adjusting the hat over his head. Odd ears…

What was that noise? A grinding, whirring sound.. Barely audible.. The engine? Oh, if they broke down in Shin-Ra territory, he'd piss himself. Not from fear, either.

Now Luxord seemed to notice the sound… Or sounds, as it seemed. He kept checking the dials, looking for a cause.

Bam. The distinct sound of bullet meeting car. Stainless steel dented, a horrible noise.

"Shit--…" Jason hissed. And there they were.

Three identical crotchrockets, three brothers aboard. One on either side, and one behind.

"Damn it!" Luxord hissed, speeding faster, "The brothers.."

"Get out of here, asshat!" Jason spat back, shooting a glance at the window.. Not five feet away, clothed in black and leather.. And there was something silv-- "Get down!" Jason cried, throwing off his seatbelt and dropping away from the window.

Glass shattered all about, and Luxord cried out as his wrist took a direct hit. Shit. Shit.

"Yazoo…" Jason mumbled, searching his pockets for SOMETHING.. Had Almasy taken his guns? He couldn't remember.. Damn it.

Luxord swerved, nearly ramming the cyclist on his side. Judging by build? Loz.. Made sense, too..

"Where are you going!?" Jason asked, pulling himself into the seat.. The brothers seemed to be falling behind.

"Neutral ground. The freeway." Insanity or genius..? Either way, it was a good plan if they weren't caught.

"Sounds… Oh, hell.."

"What?"

"Look back.." Jason's eyes were fixed on the mirror. Sure enough, the three were in hot pursuit.

"Bloody…" Luxord groaned, switching lanes.

Now, this seemed right and all for a second or two to Jason… But why-oh-why was the 18-wheeler APPROACHING them? Why the hell was it in their la--

"LUXORD! Not England! Switch lanes! Switch your goddamn lanes!!"

Luxord jerked the wheel, swerving… Horns blaring, guns firing..

It was thirty seconds of chaos. Thirty seconds Jason's mind saw as a lovely blur.. And there were noises, and it was hell…? Something cut into his shoulder.

And the car stopped.. Bottom of an exit ramp. Luxord's eyes fixed on the rear-view. Watching the three bikes pause at the top, three heads turning and… Undoubtedly.. Shouting questions to one-another over the roar of angered traffic.

"Come on.. Come on, you cunts.." Luxord hissed, brow knitting, "I dare you.. I fucking DARE you.."

But the three bikes turned, and into traffic again. And relief. Drive again, only two blocks to go…

"I think I got shot…" Jason mumbled wearily to no reply. Just a smirk, and a wave as they passed a rather short pair of familiar faces.

One of said familiar faces nodded back. Even his CAR reeked of cigars. Dear Oblivion.. Zexion glanced to the street signal. Walk. Okay. Good. He started across, waving for the distracted receptionist to follow. It was getting cloudy.. They really shouldn't be gone for long. Best to hurry.

Best to hurry.


	6. VI

**I'm really sorry for the wait. I get horribly distracted. And I went on a huge VII kick (: You'll get an omake, next chapter, along with a neat new option. How does a family friendly option for the fic sound? We'll see how it goes. (:**

She was going to get killed one of these days.

Zexion already had the very beginnings of a stitch in his side, looking after her for just these five minutes. She seemed nothing short of unneeded energy, this one.

Deity Belladonna Creston had come under the custody of the Thirteenth order two years previous. A meager street rat, one of the members had seen need of a receptionist, and adopted the girl into the building. Superior, delighted at the opportunity to convince an idiot girl that two dollars an hour was perfectly reasonable pay, hired her off-the-books. A relatively quiet girl, Zexion personally knew little of her. She had been invited down to the basement for dinner a couple of times previously, but she rarely spoke in the company of anyone than IV.

Lexaeus hypothesized that there might be a fright issue in there, as the seventeen-year-old looked no older than thirteen. Pale skin exhibited several key signs of abuse, and Zexion constantly sniffed the traces of bloodied bandages on her. But there was no genuine interest or care from anyone as to FIXING that. A cruel thing, but Zexion knew well that harming an innocent that could feel it would very well make a couple of the members feel better about their own little issue. While HE thought such acts far too barbaric to use as a relief of stress, the girl was just too odd to fully approach and attempt to tend.

She had that bad habit of just getting hurt all over again, anyway.

For now, he would turn a blind eye; Vexen was already sticking out his neck.. If it came down to it, he'd lend a helping hand, but… He barely knew her, honestly.

Short, curve-styled black hair bobbed in the large swoops of curls as she skipped recklessly across the befuddled traffic. The oddest thing about the quiet girl? Her complete and UTTER lack of personal safety. Zexion highly doubted she'd notice a meteor coming right at her, even if she were forwarded an e-mail on the subject three days in advance. And, even if she DID notice it.. She'd likely bake it a cake and greet it in song.

But she made good company, to say the very least. And it was an oddly amusing task to make sure she didn't get flattened by a flat-bed.

He noted to buy a leash for her next excuse he had.

Finally, after about ten extra minutes of dodging traffic on the first leg of their epic jaywalking adventure, the small market was just ahead. Hand firmly pushing the receptionist across the last three feet of asphalt before concrete, Zexion's eyes were far too occupied to note a silver Grand Prix that, in any other circumstance, would have called 'turn back!'.

A little jingling called their arrival as the advertisement-plastered swing door opened. Deity's scarlet eyes blinking around the place as Zexion led her towards the coolers. She really didn't get out much… It was both an odd an amusing thing. On the bad side, it retarded her street smarts. Simple things like 'Moving cars do not need to be hugged' and 'just because your brother smells and looks like that doesn't mean the homeless druggie is a nice guy'.

Oh, her brother. He went by Jason. He did drugs. He sold them. And he loosely worked for them. All that really mattered, right? Why did the junkie show up every step and swivel of the day WHEREVER he wanted?

"Now, what did I need…?" Zexion pondered, more to himself than the distracted receptionist. Nothing particular coming to mind, and he knew he'd regret it later.. So, just the basics, then. Milk, bread..

The Cloaked Schemer opened one of the coolers, pulling a pair of reading glasses out to compare the types of milk for best price.. If this were on company funds, he'd be getting something he actually WANTED, but.. A sigh, and he pulled a gallon of 'Midgar Farms' off the shelf. Far from the best, but…

He glanced around, coughing audibly as to attract the attention of the Receptionist, who had slowly been straying towards the produce section. She jumped a bit, craning around to face him.

"Anything you want me to look for, Zexion, sir?" She asked, a hint of nervousness still in her tone. Now, if this had been any other, more dependable person, Zexion would immediately have quoted off the list he had thought up.. But… Knowing the receptionist..

"No thanks.. Just stay at my side, okay?" He glanced around, making sure.. There had been a familiar voice.. His imagination? Likely.. This was the Organization's territory. There was absolutely no need to worry.. Really, who would have the balls to intrude on the place but a BLOCK from the Organization building..?

Only madmen, surely. Because, even as voices drew closer upon him picking up a stray tangerine from the oranges cart, (lord, he hated it when people did that..) he couldn't place them, no matter times he had heard two of them over the years.. No matter how many times he'd listened to that drawl from a distance, and that he had heard that commanding tone across the courtyard and campus. Calling an infuriatingly familiar name.

There had been no realization until he glanced up to meet dark eyes across the room.

"W--..." A cut syllable slipping past, eyes growing wide, "Dei, let's go.." Breaking contact from those narrowing eyes, Zexion looked for the receptionist.

Damn it.

Where was she? She had been standing RIGHT THERE not a SECOND before.. And, if they didn't get OUT--!

"Hey! Look over there, yo~" Came a rat's cackle. Too late. Far too late, "Look at what we've got~~"

Zexion felt his eyes squeeze shut from defaulted frustration. Damn it, not today. Not NOW..

The newer voice, that of the 'newer recruit' he had heard Superior mention in a briefing, chided a response, "Wow, aren't WE lucky! Hey, boss..!"

Zexion turned, clenching fists. And there they stood. Three members of that ACCURSED Department of Administrative Research across his span of sight. Two closer. Reno, he was sure, and some blonde girl. More towards the back were those eyes he had forever refused to meet, as a child. Many reasons behind that judgement.

"Hm..?" Tseng murmured, tilting stern face away from Zexion.

"Do you see it~?" The blonde woman (Zexion seemed to remember something like 'Lena' being her name..) laughed, craning around to face the superior of the three.

Eager. First note on that one.

"Nothing of decent mention, no.." Tseng murmured, turning eyes back onto his shopping list.

Petty insults. Whatever, as long as it avoided the nightmare that a fight would be. Now WHERE was the damned receptionist--!?

"Awh, boss.." Reno whined, puckering out a pout carefully ignored by Tseng, "Can't we play with the kiddies, yo..?"

Zexion was quickly and quietly making his happy way behind shelving, hoping to find the damn girl behind a stack of cans. No luck seemed to be there for him on this day, though. Even as he moved, an answer came.

"Don't get in any trouble. I was having a nice day and I'd rather you not ruin it."

Before a thought could muster, Reno was almost upon Zexion. Leaning up against a shelf, smirk wide. Cocky as anyone from his family would be at such an opportunity, "Howdy~"

Zexion's eyes narrowed beneath his silvering hair, lips parting to /politely/ ask Reno to move.

Of course, the woman moved in on his only exit at this point. So a second more to steady intelligible words.

"Move." He hissed, adjusting his grip on the plastic basket he had grabbed for groceries at the door.

Reno snorted, placing a hand on his hip and making that ridiculous pout, again, "I don't wanna. Do you see, Elena? He's bein' all mean to me!"

Elena. So that had been it.

She laughed a rather familiar laugh, and placed a hand on Zexion's shoulder, "Now, are you teasing my buddy..?" He shook her off, glaring at the both of them, and slipped his right hand into his trouser pocket.

"Really, is this the time? I asked you to mov--"

"You ORDERED me, yo!" Reno corrected him, a gleam in his eye.

"Fine. Please move." Zexion murmured, trying to duck under Reno's arm.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Elena scolded, pulling him back, "We're not done Mister Sakushi~"

"Get OFF." Zexion ripped his arm back, blank eyes scouring the woman. So familiar.. Stature, body type, hair..

"Oh, c'mon, you don't wanna talk, yo?" Reno whined, straightening up and slipping his hands into his own pockets.

"Why degrade my IQ standing aside fools?" Zexion retorted, clasping fingers over something in his pocket.

Reno made a perfect expression of confusion for a moment, before seeming to register the insult.

"Oh, it took you that long? Here, I'll try another tactic, just in case you didn't hear me earlier. M - O - V - E." And Zexion tried to move past, again.

Though his gut met the end of an EMR upon doing so.

"Now, now! We ain't gonna have you walking about me like that..." Reno chuckled, flicking the button on the thing.

Zexion jumped back but perfectly on time. Knowing these poor souls had advantages. He scowled, glancing between the two of them. Calculate.

"Get out of my way." He said, perfectly calm. Predictably, the two Turks snorted and laughed.

Fine.

Play it that way.

Zexion's grip on the thing tightened, his eyes narrowed the safest they could be, in such a situation.

"Or should I spell that, too..?" Predictable. The EMR whizzed right past his nose, making loud contact with the snack cakes and forcing Elena to retreat back a few steps. Perfect chance. Zexion ducked backwards, sprinting to the back and another aisle.

Lucky chance?

"Creston!" He shouted to the girl, who promptly looked up, "Get outside--!"

Tasered end of an EMR met his shoulder. A shout, blackness, and he was on the floor. Ow. OW. He couldn't MOVE. He could barely BREATHE.

God, he hated tasers. With that thought, the back of his jacket was grabbed, and he was slammed into the canned goods.

"Fuckin' weasels, yo..." Reno cursed, kicking at Zexion's limp leg.

Zexion squeezed eyes shut, attempting to pull himself up. To get up and.. Gods, he just hoped the receptionist wasn't going to be an--

"Zexion, sir..!?" And the clip-clop of her loafers on the tiles.

No.

"Who..?" He heard Elena murmur.

"Dog." Reno answered, and the EMR charged again. Move, Zexion--!

Too late. A squeak and a tumbling, and he saw her rainbow-clad legs fold as she hit the ground.

"Too easy, yo..." Reno scowled, turning on his heel.

And he was up. Shaking. But up. And a small bottle was out of his pocket and to Elena's face. A spray of what looked to be perfume, and she fell back.

And a scream. One loud enough to seemingly jostle Dei up, for she did so.

Reno looked between Zexion and Elena, a confused frown in proper place. There. THERE.

He raised the bottle again, as to spray at Reno, as well. The sound of a gun firing off three times cut him off.

Not a bullet touched him. Not a scratch on him.

But he was covered in blood. On his face, his arm, his side.. his leg..

Slowly, he turned to face down the aisle. Tseng had gun perched up, and Dei was gone from sight. No, no, no--...

His eyes trailed down to the ground aside him; those same eyes became dizzy. She lay silent, her right arm all but blown off. Merely a square centimeter held it on, and..

"Reno. Get Elena. We're leaving." Tseng commanded, placing that glare down on Zexion, again.

A moment of tension followed, where Zexion was sure Tseng would say something. But no such thing came, and Tseng left sight. Soonafter followed by Reno and a whimpering Elena.

He waited and waited, and, finally, Zexion crouched, checking Dei's pulse.

Good. There.

Her eyes, the came color as the liquid staining the aisle, flicked to him. Alive.

"Someone!" Zexion called, staring straight back to her eyes, "Get an ambulance!"


End file.
